


Solutions

by Patrocool (all_the_homo)



Series: patchwork quilt [2]
Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: Alternate Universe - Foster Family, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst with a Happy Ending, Fights, First Meetings, Fluff and Angst, Gen, Minor Violence, Past Abuse, Past Child Abuse, This was supposed to be pure fluff, georges/philip and frances/theo are only hinted at, i angst everything i touch
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-24
Updated: 2016-10-24
Packaged: 2018-08-24 09:34:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,547
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8367307
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/all_the_homo/pseuds/Patrocool
Summary: Frances paused, gently grabbing Theo's wrist. “Hamilton? As in Alexander Laurens-Hamilton?”Theo paused and then nodded slowly. “Um. Yes. Why? Do you know him?”Georges snorted. “Know him? Hell, this is Frances Eleanor Laurens, Alexander's step daughter.”Theo's eyes went wide, and she rubbed the back of her neck awkwardly. “Oh man, this is awkward.”Frances grinned. “Your father doesn’t happen to be the famous Aaron Burr, does he? Because, oh boy does Papa have a lot to say about the “goddamn Burr, who can’t decide between a fucking PBJ or egg salad sandwich if held at gunpoint”.”Even Philip had to laugh at that, he remembered earlier that week when John had called Frances for some reason and Alex had stolen the phone just so he could complain about work. He had said that exact quote, word for word.***Or, Philip meets his new foster sister, as well as Georges and his foster dad's "worst enemy"'s daughter.





	

**Author's Note:**

> you dont have to read the first part of the series to read this, but its recommended. 
> 
> enjoy:D

“Lafayette is, how you say… In the home!” The Frenchman beamed as they barged into the Laurens-Hamilton household, grinning down at Philip who was sitting at the coffee table, reading a book. “Hello, mom ami, where is mon petit lion?”

Philip smiled at Lafayette, looking up from his book. “He's in his office, trying to finish up the King case. That guy is ruthless and has way too many people who owe him.” 

Lafayette chuckled and kissed Philip’s head. “Hercules is bringing Georges from soccer practice, and it is Frances’ weekend here, oui? You will have much to do; they will keep you very busy.” 

The boy snorted and lightly swatted at them. “Go do whatever you and Alexander do, I’m trying to finish up this chapter before everyone gets here.”

Lafayette huffed, mumbling something about “those damn responsible people,” and went upstairs to bug his foster family.

Not even fifteen minutes past before a girl a few years older than Philip walked through the door. She had long, curly hair almost identical to her father’s that reached mid-back, freckles decorating her face and arms and the brightest, sharpest blue eyes he had ever seen.

In other words, he was immensely intimidated by Frances Laurens.

His shoulders hunched instinctively, and he curled up a little, like he was trying to hide, which was ridiculous since he was the only one in the room. Her eyes settled on him immediately, and she gave him a soft smile. “You must be Philip. I’m Frances Eleanor, you can call me Frances, Fran, El, Franny, whatever you want, alright?”

He waved shyly. “Um. Yeah. Philip is fine, or PD, for, you know, Philip Doe.” He smiled weakly and hugged his knees to his chest. 

Frances nodded slowly, thinking about it. “Can I call you Philly?” She asked after a moment’s hesitation. She grinned when he nodded, snapping her fingers in excitement. At Philip’s startled look, her smile turned sheepish. “Sorry, force of habit. It used to startle Dad a lot if I clapped suddenly, because it sounds close to a gun firing, so I started snapping instead.”

He nodded slowly, and relaxed. “Okay. Good to know. Not that I try to make noises much, in fact I try to avoid making noises at all, but good to know regardless.”

Frances nodded and stretched a little. “Is Georges here yet?”

Philip shook his head, looking at her curiously. “Are you dating him?”

Frances laughed at that, her eyes crinkling at the corner. “Oh no, sweetheart, I’m about as straight as Papa.” She paused. “Papa is Alex, by the way, Dad is John. You probably didn’t know that.”

He blinked owlishly, and then rubbed the back of his neck. “Ah. Thank you.” He nodded after a moment, unsure what to say to that.

Frances smiled, shaking her head. “Cute. You’re cute. I’m definitely gonna like having you as my little brother.”

Philip’s eyes went wide as he looked at her in surprise. “O-oh,” he said after a moment. 

Frances didn’t get a chance to answer before the door opened at an excited teen entered. His hair was almost identical to his father’s, maybe a little shorter and in dreadlocks, but his eyes were a bright hazel instead of a warm brown, which, Philip assumed, took after the boy’s mother. He was definitely pretty, with dark skin like Lafayette but with light patches of skin scattered across his body like paint splatters. His cheeks heated up and he adverted his gaze a little. If Philip wouldn’t have found him so attractive with his bright smile, he would’ve been a little afraid of how big the other teen was.

“Hello, mon ami,” he grinned. “I am Georges, and we are going to get milkshakes at the coffee shop.”

Hercules came in after him, looking amused. “Be careful, stay together. Philip, Frances, make sure you check in with Alex first, otherwise he’ll freak out again. Pretty sure he hasn’t slept since Wednesday.”

Frances sighed. “He needs to sleep more,” she mumbled as she stood, giving Georges a hug. “Hey, Georges, keep Philip company while I go talk to Papa, alright? I’m gonna take away his coffee and lock his office again if he doesn’t sleep tonight.”

Philip stared at her. “You’re allowed to do that?” He asked nervously, rubbing his arm.

Frances smiled kindly. “Dad gave me permission once he realized he wouldn’t be able to always catch Papa before he ended up in the hospital. Again.”

He nodded and turned his attention back to Georges, who was looking at him with a soft smile. 

“Georges,” Frances said with a smirk. He jerked a little, looking at her. “How about you sit down, so you’re not towering over him?”

Georges looked sheepish as he slowly sat on the ground, where Frances had sat moments before. He watched Hercules and Frances walk upstairs before eagerly turning to Philip, pressing his hands together. “Philip, oui?” Philip liked the way his name sounded with Georges’ thick accent, Georges made it sound almost like a song.

He smiled, and nodded. “Yeah, that’s me. You can call me Philip, or PD, or… Philly, I guess. Frances said that was her nickname for me.”

“Ah, non, I cannot take Franny’s nickname for you, she will murder me and dump my body in the Hudson.” Georges chuckled, picking at a frayed string on the seam of his baby blue pants. “Besides, I think I like PD or Philip better. It suits you.”

Philip looked a little flustered, shifting in his seat. “Okay,” he mumbled shyly. “You’re nice.”

Georges looked surprised at the outburst, but slowly grinned. “Thank you, mon canard.”

Philip was saved from further embarrassment by Frances, who loudly stomped down the stairs, shouting over her shoulder. “You better be in bed by eight o’clock sharp, or I’m locking the coffee in your office and putting the key in my locker.”

She turned back to the boys and beamed. “Alright, grab your coats. Let’s go, we have milkshakes to drink.”

* * * * *

“Come on, there’s this cool park down the street, it has a bunch of modern art, it’s really pretty and fun.” Frances said, dragging the boys behind her. The boys exchanged amused expressions, Philip nestling into the jacket Georges had draped over his shoulder when Philip revealed that he didn’t have a winter coat. In his hands was a strawberry milkshake that he was drinking while Frances had a banana caramel one, and Georges’ was chocolate. 

“Alright, alright, we’re coming,” Georges rumbled, lightly tapping Philip’s elbow to let him know he was trying to walk beside him. Philip blushed and moved to the side.

Looking around, he noticed some guy arguing with a girl with short hair in curls shaped carefully into a bob cut. He frowned as he watched the guy shove her against the wall before grabbing her purse and running down the street. Without even thinking about it, he pushed his drink into Georges’ hand, and darted after him, weaving between people as he focused on following him.

The guy turned into an alleyway, and laughed, not noticing Philip coming up behind him silently. ‘  
“Fucking slut, doesn’t know up from down, does she? Ha!” The thief gloated, grinning as he started looking through his loot.

Philip cleared his throat, hand curled into fists, anger in his stomach. The guy turned and Philip got a good look at him. The guy was definitely no older than Georges, and he looked thin and frail, like he wouldn’t actually be able to hold out in a fight.

“I don’t think that’s yours,” he said lowly, warning in his voice. “I suggest you hand it over now before this gets messier than it has to be.”

The guy sneered. “You and what army?”

“Me,” a voice said from behind Philip. He didn’t have to turn to recognize the voice, he knew immediately that Georges was standing behind him.

The guy visibly paled at the sight of Georges, and Philip didn’t blame him. Georges was tall, muscular and intimidating, to say the least. Philip probably would’ve been afraid too, if he hadn’t known Georges to be kind and gentle.

“Now, I don’t want to turn this into a fight, but you seem to have mistakenly grabbed a young lady's purse. Hand it over, and there won’t be any trouble, oui?” Georges rumbled, stepping up behind Philip. 

The third slowly stepped forward, holding out the purse hesitantly. Philip reached out and curled his hand around the strap, and instantly, he was being yanked forward, off balance and toppling face first just as an elbow connected to the left side of his ribcage. He cried out, dropping like a sack of potatoes, a crack ringing through the air. He turned, the purse tucked to his chest. The thief managed to stomp on his nose before Georges was angrily shouting, shoving him back against the brick wall and punching him across the face.

With the attacker down for the count, Georges rushed over to Philip, gingerly prodding his nose. Philip winced a little, shying away, but the French teenager let out a relieved sigh. “I don’t think it’s broken too seriously. Its gonna hurt like a bitch, but surgery won’t be necessary. As for your ribs…” He gently ran his fingers over Philip's side, the younger hissing and curling towards him. “Rhodes are probably broken as well, unfortunately.”

Georges carefully helped Philip up, wrapping an arm around his shoulders to keep him steady. “Slow, shallow breaths, okay? Just focus on that, John will be home soon since I have a feeling you probably don’t like hospitals. It’s not like you can do much for broken ribs or noses anyways.” They slowly made their way back to where Frances was angrily pacing back in front of the girl from earlier, who looked close to crying. 

“-only picture I have left of her was in there, she never liked having her picture taken, y'know?” The girl was saying, voice thick. Frances was nodding along, looking sympathetic and angry on her behalf. “And that asshole knew that? Fucking prick, I swear to god, if I get my hands on hi-“ She froze when she looked up, seeing Philip's bloody face. She covered her mouth and rushed forward, looking at him worriedly. “Oh my god, what happened to you? Are you okay?” She paused, noticing the purse in his hands. “Is that-“

Philip didn’t stop to hear what she was going to ask. He slowly sat down next to the girl and held out the purse. She blinked in surprise, her lips forming an “o” shape. 

“I… Thank you,” she said softly, blinking at him in surprise. He smiled weakly through the pain. “It’s all good,” he said quietly. “He deserved what was coming.” 

“Was he the one who hurt you?” She asked softly, gently tilting his head with her fingers. 

He nodded slowly. “Georges punched him though. It’s okay.” 

She smiled softly and shook her head, grabbing some tissues from her purse to very gently fab away the blood on his face. “I’m Theodosia,” she said. “But you can call me Theo.”

“Philip,” he replied. “You can call me that or PD. Apparently, though, if you call me Philly, Frances will kill you because that’s her nickname for me. I’d prefer if you didn’t get murdered, so please refrain.” 

Theo laughed and shook her head, pressing a clean tissue into his hand. “Put that in your nose, okay? To block the blood.” 

He nodded and did as she ordered, carefully twisting the end and stuffing it in his nose carefully. He swallowed nervously as it all sank in. He got into a fight. The Laurens-Hamiltons were going to snap and take him back, or worse. He just knew it as his heart sank. To think he was actually starting to like it here, especially Georges and Frances.

He looked away, biting his lip. Theo frowned and patted his arm gently, which he tensed at. She awkwardly drew her hand away. “Sorry,” she said quietly, looking to her lap. “Thank you for getting my bag back.”

“Of course,” Philip murmured. “I’d like to get to know you better, you know, when I’m not bleeding from my nose.”

She nodded, looking at him hesitantly. “Um. Do you want my phone number?” 

He paused, internally beating himself up for not bringing his phone. Luckily, Frances came to his rescue. “Here, you can put your number in my phone. He dropped his phone in the sink while doing dishes the other day, and we haven’t been able to get him a new one yet.” She handed Theo her phone, and the younger girl smiled gratefully. 

“Alright. Are you two siblings then?” Theo asked as she put her number in Frances' phone.

Frances nodded before Philip could say anything. “Half siblings, yes.”

Theo smiled and kissed all three of them in the cheek. “Thank you again.”

“No problem, mom ami, it was truly an honor to punch such an asshole, non?” Georges laughed, having to duck down so Theo could kiss his cheek. Philip ignored the strange feeling in his stomach at that, glancing away. 

Theo only chuckled and nodded, checking her watch. “I have to go, Dad will be home soon and he will be grumpy about a co-worker of his. It’s entertaining to listen to him go on and on about how infuriating Hamilton is- meanwhile, I’ve met the man's foster father once or twice, and Mr. Washington always talks so highly of Hamilton, so I doubt he’s half as bad as Dad makes him out to be.”

Frances paused, gently grabbing Theo's wrist. “Hamilton? As in Alexander Laurens-Hamilton?”

Theo paused and then nodded slowly. “Um. Yes. Why? Do you know him?”

Georges snorted. “Know him? Hell, this is Frances Eleanor Laurens, Alexander's step daughter.”

Theo's eyes went wide, and she rubbed the back of her neck awkwardly. “Oh man, this is awkward.”

Frances grinned. “Your father doesn’t happen to be the famous Aaron Burr, does he? Because, oh boy does Papa have a lot to say about the “goddamn Burr, who can’t decide between a fucking PBJ or egg salad sandwich if held at gunpoint”.”

Even Philip had to laugh at that, he remembered earlier that week when John had called Frances for some reason and Alex had stolen the phone just so he could complain about work. He had said that exact quote, word for word.

Theo laughed hard, nearly doubling over as she wiped her eyes. “Oh, that’s too perfect. We’ll have to arrange to go over to each other's houses at some point, see how our fathers will react?” 

Frances snorted, and nodded eagerly. “Definitely. Oh man, it’s gonna be great.” Frances took back her phone, and sent a quick text to Theo. “Make sure you text me what he says, okay? I’m eager to hear Burr's side of the story.”

Georges cleared his throat gently. “Franny, we should get PD home, he broke a rib or two. Your dad needs to check it out to see what we can do.” 

Frances looked up guiltily, nodding immediately. “Yeah, of course, I’m sorry, Philly.” She smiled at Theo and patted her shoulder. “It was nice to meet you. See you again soon, I hope. But for now, we need to get Philly home.”

Theo nodded and made shooing hands with her hands. “Go on then, keep me updated. If he needs to go to the hospital, tell me, I’ll pay for it, okay?”

“Don’t worry about it, we have enough money to pay for hospital bills. It wasn’t your fault anyways. Bye, Theo.” Frances, Georges and Philip waved as Theo nodded, walking down the street to her house. 

Georges carefully helped Philip to his feet, pressing his lips together. “Should I just carry you? It’ll be faster, and I won’t jostle your ribs as much.” 

Philip hesitated before slowly nodding. “Just… Please try not to touch my torso as much as you can avoid it, okay?” he mumbled. Georges immediately nodded, figuring he meant because of his ribs, and then very carefully lifted him up and started carrying him with ease. 

Philip flushed a little, laying his head on Georges' shoulder and looping his arms around his neck carefully. The taller teen was carrying him with such ease it made him flustered. He decided to focus on that instead of his oncoming doom. He was disappointed that he was probably never going to really see how Burr or Alexander reacted to Theo being friends with Frances and Georges. He wasn’t going to be Frances’ brother for more than a day, he wasn’t going to have the chance to explore his attraction to Georges.

He was going to be sent away from the best family he had had in years, and it was all his fault.

Unable to help it, he felt tears build up in his eyes, and he pressed his face into Georges’ shoulder, trying hard not to let them fall. He didn’t want to lose this, he was just starting to feel safe here.

Soon enough, they made it to the house, and true to Georges’ word, John was home, judging by the dark messenger bag hanging on the hook next to the door. Frances kissed Philip’s forehead as Georges gently set him on the couch, handing him an icepack she had grabbed from the freezer. “Do you want us to be here while you talk to them and Dad checks your ribs?”

Philip hesitated. On one hand, if Georges and Frances were there, Alex and John most likely wouldn’t hit him, but that would mean it’d probably just get worse later. And Philip didn’t want to be the cause of anything between the Frances and her dads. It wasn’t fair to her.

He gave them a weak smile. “I-I’d rather do it alone,” he whispered, pressing the ice to his ribs. 

Frances nodded and gently tugged Georges upstairs. “Shout for us if you need anything.”

He nodded and watched them leave mournfully, tears slipping down his cheeks. He hoped that it wouldn’t be the last time he saw them, but with his luck?

He closed his eyes tightly, a sob bubbling out of his chest. It wasn’t fair. He never wanted to stay at a house more than in this moment. He never liked a foster family this much, never felt so wanted and safe.

But now, because of him, it would all end.

He didn’t even notice John and Alex coming in the room until they were kneeling in front of him, eyes worried and eyebrows furrowed. 

“Philip?” Alexander asked softly, tapping the tip of his shoe. “Philip, mon cher, talk to us. Franny said you were hurt?”

“Can you tell us what happened?” John suggested quietly, his voice soft and comforting.

Philip sniffed and looked at them tearfully. “’M sorry,” he mumbled, lip trembling. “I-I’m sorry, pl-please don’t send me away…” 

Alexander’s face went blank for a moment, while John looked even more confused. “Why-“ Alexander cut him off with a sharp shake of his head.

“When I came to America, almost none of my foster homes were kind. I was abused. I was…” He swallowed, reaching out for John’s hand, which he gladly gave. “Touched in ways I didn’t want. I was neglected. When the Washingtons took me in, I was waiting for the shoe to drop, waiting for Martha to raise her voice, or for George to raise his hand. But it never came. Instead, I was showed time and time again that I was safe, that I was secure, that I was loved. Lafayette, they were my foster sibling, they showed me the ropes and helped me heal, holding me through my nightmares and panic attacks, and taught me that the Washingtons loved and cared about me like I was their own son. One particular day, however, within the first few months I was with them, there was a terrible storm. Thunder, lightning, rain, wind, the whole shebang. Enough to send me into an awful panic, and unfortunately, Lafayette was at some art thing for the weekend. I didn’t even make it into my bedroom before I collapsed, unable to breath and crying out desperately. And, of course, it was George who found me. My first thought, coming out of it, was that George was gonna throw me out because I was weak and couldn’t handle myself during a storm, or he was gonna hit me for not being manly enough to deal with it. But instead, he wrapped me in blankets, made me hot chocolate and we talked politics until I fell asleep.” 

Philip stared at him, mind racing. What was Alexander trying to say? Was he saying that Philip wasn’t gonna be taken back?

“We aren’t gonna leave you, or hurt you, Philip, we care about and want the best for you. You’re part of our family now, and nothing can change that unless you want it, okay?” John filled in gently, patting his shin. “So, why don’t you tell us what’s wrong, so we can figure out how to fix it?”

Philip hesitated for a long moment before slowly smiling and nodding. “Okay,” he whispered. “I can do that.”

**Author's Note:**

> kudos and comments fuel my life. constructive criticism is welcome, but don't be an ass about it. 
> 
> Example of a good constructive criticism:  
> Compliment: a favorite part/what went very well  
> Question: to further knowledge or depth, or to push the author/artist deeper  
> Improvement: what struck out as odd/didn't fit in/a plot hole or something that was inconsistent that could be improved. Remember not to attack the person you're critiquing when it comes to improvements.
> 
> you can send me prompts at patrocool.tumblr.com, where ill post drabbles and headcannons for this series, and maybe fannart? you can also find me on instagram at nonbinary.fighting.frenchman or gaygreekgeek.
> 
> come talk to me about lafayette, laurens or philip bc i love them.


End file.
